The Return
by Kulahan
Summary: Karthus' fascination with death is well known. What's not understood, however, is how far he's willing to go to learn more about it.


High Summoner Vel'rik sat atop his throne in Summoners' Hall. The throne room was beautiful. It was made completely of white marble, and it was long and narrow. There was a crimson and gold carpet leading from the entrance to the throne, as well as a flag bearing the crest of the Summoners' Guild on each of the 6 massive pillars on either side of the room. The walls were solid marble as well. The only break in that stone were the three thirty foot tall windows behind the throne. They were stained glass, and the pictures in them depicted the story of the Guild's formation. Sunlight poured through them.

He heard the commotion outside. He knew what was happening, and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Something had been found. Something powerful. Something that should've stayed buried. Vel'rik wasn't sure how it fell into the wrong hands, but that didn't matter – it was too late now.

The doors to the throne room burst open. Two formidable opponents stood before him. In front of him and to his right was Hecarim – The Shadow of War, the vanguard of undeath. His fearsome speed nearly unmatched on the field of battle. He carried with him a scythe, and his spectral centaur-like body was covered in thick armor plating. He carried upon his back a number of bags. Vel'rik had watched him fight many times on the Summoner's Rift, and he never once saw him carrying luggage.

To Vel'rik's left was Karthus – the Death Singer, the harbinger of oblivion. Karthus had always fascinated Vel'rik in some odd way – the creature was absolutely obsessed with the sweet release of death. Even before he'd accepted undeath himself, he couldn't help but study it constantly. Eventually, once Karthus did pass, he became a member of the Shadow Isles, a terrifying place that few dared to go, and even fewer returned from. Before long, he was the Isles' leader. No surprise there.

There was no use trying to fight them. Even if he somehow managed to take Karthus out, being the High Summoner meant Vel'rik had access to information that few were privy to. He knew killing Karthus was useless – the bastard had figured out how to hold off death just long enough to slay any foe. His power was unfathomable; and there was no running from it. With just a few chants, he could summon a burst of energy, striking any foe from any distance. Besides, he was no match for Hecarim's speed. Summoners were masters of control, but they required time to perform the ritual. In front of him was a truly devastating combo.

He'd sent as many guards home as possible in anticipation of this day – the High Summoner can sense these sorts of things a bit before they happen, but a few refused his orders. They picked up on his apprehension, and because of it, they were dead now. He knew how foolish they were, but if he'd told them what was coming, even more would have stayed behind in loyalty. It was of little consequence, though. Thanks to the power of the Summoners, true death – the kind that you don't come back from – had been subdued for thousands of years. They'd all be back by tomorrow, but by then it would be too late to stop Karthus and Hecarim from completing their task.

"So, I see you've finally made you way here. I didn't expect it so quickly." Vel'rik said.

Karthus laughed slowly, drawing it out as though he were savoring it. "I guess there's no surprising you, is there, High Summoner?"

"So why have you come? I can read your movements if I wish, but I can't read your mind."

Karthus looked thoughtful for a moment, which Vel'rik knew was completely unnecessary. Karthus wanted to relish in his victory over the Summoners.

"I decided it was time for a change in policy. I'm not here to take your position, Vel'rik. I'm simply here to ensure you don't interfere with my plans. Play along and I'll even let you live, though I can't understand why you'd actually _want _that."

Vel'rik was genuinely confused. What was he getting on about? He didn't have time to ponder it anyways. In just a few seconds, Hecarim dashed forward, crossing the long white room of stone in less time than even Vel'rik expected him to. He must have been training for this day. Almost immediately, Vel'rik was chained to his throne. He watched as Karthus floated forward – he never actually walked anymore, a testament to his power. Once he reached the center of the throne room, Hecarim trotted over to him, and Karthus pulled a few very large flasks of some thick, black liquid from bags hanging over the Reaping Horse's back.

Karthus began to pour the vials out onto the ground in a strange pattern. It was a large circle with some runic symbols lining it, inside and out. It wasn't hard to pour it in the pattern he wanted. The liquid was like hot tar, falling slowly from the lips of the rather plain, clear glass vials. He was taking his time. Karthus would stop occasionally and use his staff to carefully draw those runic symbols in puddles of the tar-like substance. Watching, Vel'rik knew there was no way any news of this would leave the castle grounds for some time – he could guarantee anyone in the general vicinity was dead by now, to include everyone who saw the pair approaching the castle prior to the siege. Hecarim likely used his speed to hide the bodies as they moved. The city would be like a ghost town. Karthus had all the time he needed.

After a half-hour or so, with a small pile of the flasks laying off to the side of the room, Karthus reached into his robe and pulled out a few small candles. They were black, too. When he lit them with a small burst of energy from his finger tip, they burned a light blue flame, much like the ghostly light coming from beneath Hecarim's armor. He placed them at specific points around the circle, and Vel'rik started to realize what they were up to.

The castle hadn't just been placed in any random location. The grounds were where the ley lines for the world met. All magic in the world flowed through the building at some point, and the throne room was chosen because it was atop the largest single convergence of ley lines anywhere. The circle Karthus was drawing was surrounding that meeting point. He planned to do something major. Whatever it was, the effects were likely to be felt around the world, but it required immense magical power to do; likely more than he could ever gather on his own.

Finally, after taking a moment to revel in his creation, Karthus spoke again. "Ah, now the show can begin! Hecarim, do me a favor and give the High Summoner and I some alone time."

Hecarim bowed in the way that horse-creatures do, gave a side-long glance at Vel'rik, and walked to the door, seemingly quite pleased with himself. Once outside, Karthus waved his staff, slamming the massive stone doors shut. Another wave of the staff, and any trace of the doors vanished – only a blank wall remained where they once stood.

"I've been making friends, you know. Even though we might not see eye to eye, there are those out there whose goals align in some ways with mine. It's surprising what you can accomplish when you work together." Karthus mused.

"Oh? Please, elaborate. I didn't know anyone could stand your presence long enough to be your friend."

"You're the High Summoner, so I don't even need to ask if you know who Ezreal is. Did you know that he uncovered something amazing during one of his cave explorations? It was really quite special. He knew that what he'd found was big, so he did the right thing and immediately packed it up to give it to Jarvan for safe-keeping. Something like this was too important for him to try to protect all on his own."

Karthus ran his finger along the tip of his staff while he spoke. He was slowly floating around his circle. Were the flames growing brighter? It was hard to tell. They certainly couldn't have been that large when Karthus first lit them. He shot Vel'rik a glance before continuing, a smirk on his face.

"Fortunately, I knew the right people. Did you know that Jarvan's head guard of magical treasures has a daughter? She's been very sick. Dying is an incredibly painful process – most people aren't interested in going through it every few weeks. He was looking for a way to prevent her from a life of pain. You'd be surprised at how much I know about the whole process. With that knowledge comes the ability to prevent it all together. For someone such as myself, it's an easy task. The right payment is all I require to provide that service."

His voice began to quicken as he spoke – he was getting excited. The tar was slowly changing as Karthus floated around it – it was becoming lighter; Vel'rik was sure it was turning to another color... red, maybe?

"He came to me in desperation, bargaining with what Ezreal had found. He was sure I'd be interested. He was right. You see, there are some objects on this planet even older than the Summoners' Guild. They came from another time, when people truly understood magic. This thing that Ezreal found was a book – it contained thousands of spells that the Old Ones had written down. There are almost no remaining traces of their spells, so you can imagine that this one had some truly interesting tidbits of information."

Karthus stopped between the High Summoner and the circle, his head hanging slightly. Ever since entering undeath, he didn't have eyes anymore – just holes of ethereal energy where they used to be, but Vel'rik could tell he was staring at the ground. Karthus suddenly tensed up, picking his head up and staring straight through Vel'rik. He flung his staff up, pointing it straight ahead, and with a sudden, loud scream, the windows behind the throne exploded. Glass of all colors rained down on the room. Instead of more light shining through, though, the room suddenly became dark. Vel'rik couldn't see behind him, but he knew that light was no longer coming through those windows. The only light source left were the candles on the ground, glowing blue behind the Death Singer, that same glowing blue echoed in the eyes in his head. Karthus was silent as he turned to face the circle, raising his empty hand over it. He chanted some unintelligible words for a few moments before stopping to face the throne again.

"Death is a truly fascinating thing, you know. The finality of it is so enticing. I've been trying to figure out for _years_ what you summoners do when you grant someone their permanent death. You've kept a tight lid on the ceremony, I'll give you that. It doesn't matter anymore, though. The book Ezreal found taught me a lot about controlling magic, but it taught me a lot more about releasing control of that magic – something about 'learning the true nature of the beast'."

Vel'rik's eyes grew wide with horror. He finally knew exactly what Karthus was up to.

"You can't do this, Karthus! Millions of people around the world will die without that lock on magic. Death himself will run free across the fields of Valoran, claiming all those souls he so hungrily clawed at for all these years! We'll teach you the process of bringing true death if you want, but don't do this."

Karthus threw his head back, laughing.

"Fool! Do you truly think I would let Death run rampant?"

Karthus withdrew a large, brown tome from his robes. He held it out in his hand and it floated up a few inches, opening to a specific page.

"I will be Death's master! There is more power in these pages than you could possibly imagine. If I were to simply let Death run free, he would claim me as well, and how am I to study real death if he takes me too soon? No, I will be the one claiming these souls for him, feeding him until I've sated my thirst for knowledge. Then when I'm done, I'll let him take me and loose him upon the world."

Karthus began chanting in a strange, ancient-sounding language. The tar had certainly turned red by now, and it was no longer a thick, viscous liquid. The symbol on the ground now had perfectly smooth edges, and all the excess liquid had disappeared. It became clear to Vel'rik that this was blood. Likely, the payment for the service of keeping the daughter alive was the tome. The tool for keeping her alive, however, was probably the poor guard's blood. Somewhere in this world, a lifeless body was being held in a sort of nearly-dead stasis while the blood was used for this ritual. The pain of that stasis must have been unbearable. Vel'rik half-wished Karthus would succeed simply so he could claim the guard's soul instead of bringing him back. He would be a broken man after this kind of pure torture.

Karthus finished chanting after a few more lines, and the book floated over to the center of the circle, still opened to that page. He slammed his staff into the ground in front of him, then floated off to the side. The chains surrounding the High Summoner began to glow, and Vel'rik felt a strong pulling at his chest. He knew now that Karthus intended to rip the controlling magic from the Summoner's body, and use it to control Death itself. Only the power of a High Summoner was enough to control something so unbelievably powerful, and only the levels of magic found in the throne room were such that it could be summoned in the first place.

Suddenly, a burst of white energy exploded from the Summoner's chest. It streamed across the room, screaming a high-pitched squeal as it flowed, as though it knew somehow what it would be used for. It flowed through to the staff, turning black as it did, then flowed into the book. Vel'rik could feel his body pulling against the chains, but some ethereal spell made them stronger than any normal steel, and they were enough to keep him in place.

The inside of the circle flooded with blood. The center of the pool opened up like a drain hole, widening until it was six feet across – half the width of the blood-circle. A red light shone through the hole, and slowly, a tall figure arose from it. The figure was easily ten feet tall, and his robes were rough, as though the shadowy figure had been attacked by some vicious animal all over. Huge black wings were on the figure's back, though it was hard to discern any exact shape. They looked like the smoke from a fire, and they were constantly shifting slightly in one way or another. The creature floated from the center of the circle, stopping at the edge. He reached one robed arm forward – no hand showed from the edge of the sleeve, but it was clearly supported by something. The edge of the sleeve stopped at the edge of the circle, and the figure leaned forward heavily.

The edge of the circle seemed to be a force field of some kind. The figure's hand was still invisible, but where the figure tried to push through, a black-red translucent wall appeared. The wall showed the shape of the figure's hand, a terrifying sort of clawed thing. Thin, but dangerous looking. The figure pushed hard against the wall, but could not break through. It screamed wildly behind the shield suddenly, slamming both hands hard into the barrier. The whole room shook with the force, but it remained trapped.

Karthus stepped forward again, and the figure calmed down. He placed his finger on the outside of the wall and dragged it down a few inches. The translucent wall tore beneath his finger. The figure inside slammed into the tear, trying to rip it open further. It pressed its claws through the hole, trying to pull it apart. As soon as they passed through the barrier, they became visible. They were like charred wood – dry, black, flaky claws, with deep ridges all over them. Karthus swung his staff, snapping one off. The creature screamed louder, jumping back from the wall, squirming in pain.

"Now now, Death. If you think you just got a free passage, you're wrong. You're here for me. Nobody else."

Karthus placed his finger at the top of the tear and dragged it upwards, making the hole much larger. He made a second hole, both now about a foot tall, just beside the original.

"I'll make you a deal. You've been stuck in there... too long. I'll let you out so you can feed on the souls you've wanted for so long, but only on my schedule. Otherwise, I end this ritual, and you go back to hoping that he-" Karthus pointed towards Vel'rik "feeds you enough to satisfy you. Trust me when I say you'll be nice and fat once I'm through with you. What do you think? Put your hands through here and let me take control of you."

The creature screamed at the proposition, slamming on the edges of the circle anywhere it could for a few minutes. Karthus simply watched him, a bored look across his face. After a while, the beast calmed down. It seemed to deliberate for a while, then slowly placed its hands through the holes.

"Lovely." Karthus said.

He grabbed his staff from where it was standing on the floor and swung it hard at the wrists of the creature. Rather than hitting the arms like one would expect, the staff became limp like rope, wrapping around the beast's arms. The figure screamed again, but was unable to remove its arms from the holes. The staff seemingly melted into the creature, and as it disappeared, so too did the cries of the thing inside the circle. Once this was done, Karthus tapped the middle knuckle of his ring finger twice against the wall of the circle and it shattered like glass. The creature jumped at Karthus immediately, swinging a clawed, ashen hand towards him, but stopped just short.

"You should give me more credit than that, Death. If I can break a shield that powerful, I can create one, too. There's only one person in this room that you can feast upon right now, and he's strapped to that throne over there."

The beast glanced over toward the High Summoner. Vel'rik knew his end was near.

"Go on, have your fun." Karthus floated toward where the doors used to be. He tapped his knuckle on the wall, and the doors suddenly reappeared. He opened them and stepped out to meet Hecarim.

"When you're done, I'll be out here waiting."

The doors closed behind Karthus, and the darkness suddenly lifted. Light poured through the windows behind Vel'rik again. The massive beast turned its head to him, and the chains around him disintegrated. He stood up to face the beast, accepting his fate. He would fight, but he knew there was no hope. Karthus never intended to let him live. Solving this would be up to the Champions of the League of Legends now.


End file.
